


Process

by etoiledunord



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-16
Updated: 2008-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-25 19:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoiledunord/pseuds/etoiledunord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The progress of an unlikely relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Process

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Mylar romance piece. The premise for this piece is one I've had in my head for a while. Basically, there are a lot of people who might ask "How in the hell could *that* relationship ever happen?!" and, with this, I'm venturing the answer "Like so many others do." Lastly, this is a future fic where everybody's working together in kind of a revamped Company setting, but that doesn't really matter.

It started with proximity. At times it wasn’t particularly voluntary, but they spent time around each other. Work, of course. They worked together. Their motley crew had been formed around a common goal and was sustained by a combination of need and diplomacy. There were those who needed help, and there were those who promised to give it so long as everything stayed civil.

“I’ve got recon for you.”

Mohinder looked up. “Good. On what, exactly?”

“Home life of one of the higher-ups,” Sylar replied.

Mohinder took the file and leafed through it. “Lives in the suburbs… three children… one manifested... communication with animals, interesting.”

“They have three dogs: Larry, Curly and Moe. Beagles. And a bird, some small green thing. It’s possible the kid could use them as emergency signals of some sort.”

“Thanks for bringing me this,” Mohinder said, putting down the file and turning back to his work.

“How do you communicate with something that has a brain the size of a sunflower seed?” Sylar asked.

“The bird? I doubt the size of its brain matters. Micah can talk to machines, remember,” Mohinder replied.

“Still,” Sylar persisted. “Of all the animals to use this on… Why not a bear or a wolf or a whale?”

Mohinder sighed. “I don’t know, and I need to get on with my work.”

Sylar stopped his pondering. “You’d better be nice, doctor,” he said. “Or you’ll have a raccoon following you and trying to eat your lab samples.”

Mohinder rolled his eyes as Sylar turned and left.

~~~

Familiarity was the second thing to happen. Even in their unusual lives, there were elements of routine that wore themselves into the days. Bennet always called his wife at 3:00 to discuss dinner and his children’s schedules. Nathan would pour himself a drink if he had to stay past 6:00. There was a creeping realization that they had all gotten to know one another.

“The kettle’s broken.”

Sylar stopped in the doorway. “What?”

“Niki knocked it off the counter this morning,” Mohinder elaborated from his place standing by a table. “She wasn’t feeling well and was trying to make herself some tea. Nathan wound up asking me to sedate her.”

Sylar looked around. “What happened?” he asked. The counter where the tea bags and condiments for coffee were kept seemed undisturbed, but, when he looked closely, he noticed that the top of the electric kettle, where the on/off switch was, was indeed broken.

“Something about her father; I didn’t catch it,” Mohinder replied. “We’re letting her sleep. Matt can pick up Micah, and I’ll buy a new kettle tonight. For today, though, you’ll have to go without your Earl Gray.”

“Oh,” Sylar said. “And that leaves you without caffeine, too, and on a Thursday.”

“Thursday?”

“You’re always tired on Thursdays,” Sylar pointed out. “With Molly’s soccer games on Wednesday nights, and then the team going out for slurpees afterwards, she doesn’t settle down easily and you don’t get enough sleep.”

Mohinder looked up at Sylar. “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

Sylar shrugged. “It’s come up,” he replied.

Suddenly, Mohinder gave a loud sigh. “I’m taking a break,” he announced. “You like that coffee shop the next block over, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sylar said as he watched Mohinder pull on his jacket.

“Room for milk, right?”

“Yeah, thanks…”

It was Mohinder’s turn to shrug. “Considering that you hardly eat lunch, it’s probably best that you have something to put in your stomach.”

Sylar frowned. “I get busy,” he protested. “I get distracted.”

“I know,” called Mohinder as he walked out the door.

~~~

Awareness came next. From the comfortable blur of the everyday, something glimmered, caught the eye. It might have been the mood at the time, maybe a trick of the light or the feel of the cool evening breeze on their faces that made them take notice. They might have been able to dismiss it, too, but it happened again, and then again. The moments proliferated—a lilt in the voice, the line of the other’s back; things that made each of them pause for just a second.

“I’m exhausted.”

Mohinder looked over at Sylar. He was seated in a swiveling desk chair, head lolling back to the side and limbs spread akimbo. It looked awkward.

“I used to get eight and a half hours of sleep every night, you know,” Sylar announced. “I miss that.”

A smile was Mohinder’s only reply as he watched Sylar attempt to adjust his position. Suddenly, his foot slipped, and the weight of his body leaning to one side caused the chair to spin and the man sitting on top to slip sideways off it.

At that, Mohinder laughed out loud.

“…Ouch,” Sylar said, arms still on the seat of the chair. He laid his head on top of them.

Mohinder got up and held out his hand to help Sylar up. When the man on the floor didn’t notice, Mohinder gave his leg a small kick.

Sylar looked up and, noticing Mohinder’s outstretched hand, took it and stood up. His skin was dry, Mohinder noticed, and his hand felt cool. And there was a second’s hesitation before they let go.

~~~

Attachment was fourth. At some point, it became normal for them to stand next to one another when in the same room. If either was asked a question, the two of them would share a glance before an answer was given. Staying around each other, even when it wasn’t required, became common. The tension they had been feeling had become strong enough to change the way they acted, and each new action, each new closeness, sent a warm wave of adrenaline through their veins.

“Happy Friday night.”

Sylar raised his can of Coke in greeting as Mohinder entered the room. He was relaxing on the couch to wind down after a tiring day.

“Happy 4:30 in the afternoon to you, too,” Mohinder replied with a smile. “Is this your idea of an exciting evening?”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Sylar insisted. “Come join me,”

Mohinder opened the mini fridge and got himself a can of Coke before sitting down next to Sylar on the couch. He made a show of testing the comfortableness of his seat. “Hmmm… I don’t know,” he said.

Sylar laughed. “You’ve only got so long to relax before you have to go home and play parent, so you might as well enjoy it.”

“Not tonight,” Mohinder replied. “Molly was picked up with a friend for a sleepover. I don’t have to go get her until tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds relaxing,” Sylar commented.

“Indeed,” Mohinder replied.

After a moment of sipping their beverages in silence, Sylar spoke. “A Friday night to do whatever you want and here you are with me.”

“Here I am with you,” Mohinder echoed.

After a while, it was 7:00 and they were out of Coke. It was Mohinder who suggested dinner.

~~~

Actualization was the next step. Unlike perhaps with the earlier steps, they both knew this was coming. But, even with dangers such as their work as everyday realities, the courage required to take this step took a long time to collect. Despite that each knew how the other felt, saw their own tentative desire reflected back at them, they waited. This was the last gap to close between them, after all. And, in a way, it was the first of something else.

“What are you doing here?”

Sylar looked up from his reading. “I need to go through the records to find-“

“You’re hiding,” Mohinder said, cutting him off. He looked down at Sylar, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the records room, surrounded by papers. “Peter was asking me about you.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Sylar sighed. “I’m not doing anything wrong, Mohinder.”

“I know,” he replied. “He’s worried, that’s all. For you, too.”

“Of course he is,” Sylar muttered. “Fine, I’ll take these with me and go through them where people can keep watch over me to make sure I’m being good,” he said bitterly as he gathered the files around him and got up, heading towards the door.

Mohinder put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Sylar,” he started.

Sylar turned to face him. “This is important to me, Mohinder.”

“I know,” he said again. He took a breath. “I’m worried, too.”

“What do I have to do to convince you it’ll be all right?” Sylar asked, looking Mohinder in the eyes.

Mohinder hesitated, just a second. “I don’t know.”

For a moment, the two of them stood there in silence.

“Mohinder?” the taller man asked.

“Sylar?”

“I want this.”

Mohinder took another breath. He understood. “So do I,” he replied.

Slowly, Sylar raised his free left hand and cupped Mohinder’s jaw with it. He was breathing deeply. God, did he ever want this, had wanted it for so long now. Seeing Mohinder’s tongue dart out to lick his lips nervously, Sylar could no longer resist. He titled his head down and kissed him, gentle but certain. Mohinder responded, leaning into the warmth of Sylar’s mouth. When he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, Sylar was only too happy to oblige. For a while, time and the outside world were forgotten.

When the kiss ended, Sylar pulled Mohinder into a hug. They each wrapped their arms around the other, holding tight and breathing in this completion.

“Still worried?” Sylar asked.

“No,” Mohinder replied. “I’m happy.”


End file.
